Slayers: Grissom Sisters
by goddessa39
Summary: Angel never came back from Hell. Buffy conceived. Years later, Faith is a mother and with Spike, and they're going to Las Vegas to find thier father.
1. Chapter 1

**Slayers: Sisters**

**Disclaimer: **I only own the fic, and anything that doesn't already belong to Mutant Enemy and whoever is in charge of CSI Las Vegas (like Marianna, Liam, Elisabeth, and Mina.)

**Pairings: **B/A (eventually, but don't count on them interacting till a long time from now), F/S, etc.

**Timeline: **Post-AUish S7. Pretend the stuff S3-S7 happened in three years instead of four. Buffy and Faith are 22. Liam and Elisabeth are 4½. Mina (short for Willamina) is Faith's and Spike's (William/Will) daughter, who is 9 months old.

**Genre: **Adventure/Angst/LongLostRelative/Other

**Summary:** Now that they've gotten away from the scoobies, Buffy retrieves her twins from Lily and takes them, Spike, and Faith to Las Vegas to check up on their (Faith's and Buffy's) father, and the twins' grandfather.

**Background:** Buffy and Faith are non-identical twin sisters. Their father (Gil Grissom) took care of them after their mother died, (the Der Kinderstood killed her) but Elizabeth and Hope got separated when the Watchers Council came to retrieve them. They both ended up in child custody and changed their names so that the WC wouldn't find them, and they lost each other. Their father never found them, and they never got a chance to go to him.

None of the others, except for Spike, know of Buffy and Faith's actually being sisters. After Faith killed the guy, Buffy got Lily, who Faith met on multiple times, to clear her of anything and get them both false identities of Faith and Buffy Winters.

**Notes/Changes/Ideas: **Dawn? Connor? Who are these people?

**N/C/I**: Slayers can only reproduce with vampires. It's an unknown fact, but true. Buffy conceived on her 17th birthday. When she sent Angel to hell, she never gave him up and he never returned. She has remained single.

**N/C/I:** The Der Kindestood in LA killed Celia years after another Der Kindestood killed Marianna Grissom.

**N/C/I: ** I know that I've done plenty of twin children things from Buffy and Angel and most, erhm… all, I need to finish. But here's yet another. Hey, look at it this way; at least it isn't a Lady Vengeance fic. I've been coming up with WAAAY too many ideas lately, so I'm trying to space my mind out with this much older idea.

………………………………

**Character Profiles:**

**Elizabeth Anne-Claire and Hope Marianne Grissom:** Beth and Hope were born January 21, 1981, in a Las Vegas hospital to Gil and Marianna (Rhianne ReAnn) Grissom. At the age of 5, there was a freak accident that split them up. Taking forewarning from their dreams, they gave false names to social services and they were never identified. While Hope went into adoptive services as Faith, Beth went to a good family as Buffy.

**Gil Grissom**: Gill Grissom has spent the last fifteen years helping Las Vegas move from #14 to #2 in the US Crime Lab rankings. He grew up in Marina Del Rey, California. His mother ran an art gallery in Venice, and his father was in the import/export business, dealing primarily with communist China. Grissom's parents divorced when he was five. At eight or nine, Grissom began riding his bike out to the beach ever day to collect dead seagulls, possums, and anything else he could find. He would bring the remains home and conduct autopsies, slowly teaching himself the ins and outs of death. As a teenager, Grissom became known to the local authorities, who employed him for quick autopsies on dead animals like cats and dogs. By 16, Grissom was an unofficial intern for the LA County morgue. He worked his way through college, and at the age of 22 went to work full time as the youngest coroner in the history of LA County. Eight years later, a headhunter recruited him to run the Field Services Office in Las Vegas. His philosophy about his work has always been: "if you want to learn about forensics, master everything else first." While others may have a reason for being a CSI, for Grissom the job is not about choice. Grissom could no more work another profession than fish could stop swimming. CSI is not a job for Grissom; it's an expression of who he is as a person, the perfect synthesis of personality and profession. Grissom's specialty is entomology, or insects. (This profile and the others of CSI Las Vegas found here.) … In the reality of this fic,

………………………………

Prologue: January 21, 1985.

He had been at the park for hours with his daughters and their friends. For a widowed father, he sure knew how to pick up slack. The park wasn't large but it was their favorite. There was a big sand lot with quite a few different brands of playground equipment. There were slides and monkey bars and bridges that wiggled.

There were also quite a few swings, kiddie type and normal. He always had to smile at his daughters' defiance in using the baby swings ever since they saw some elementary school children use the bigger ones. Gil was over-aware at how high the swings went. The bars that held them together alone had to be at least sixteen feet. Beth and Hope always swung as high as they could and continually commanded him to push higher and faster and more. He always laughed and reminded himself that at this age, everything was always "one more daddy; Just one more."

It was their fourth birthday, and their party was currently being held at the park. There was even one of those elephant floats most of the kids were jumping on; But not his girls. They were playing a game on the large swings with some of the other four-year-olds. They swung back and fourth while their friends ran across and tried not to get tagged. Apparently, the point of the game was to not swing. He doubted his daughters were trying too hard; although, both of them rose to a challenge.

Something he found when they were born was that they looked almost nothing alike, but they were so very similar. Like him, they loved to challenge themselves. Both of his daughters liked to finish puzzles and ask questions. The difference was that they were much more active though.

Gil sat down with some of the other parents with aching feet and watched as the thirty or so kids on the playground played their hearts out. And because of the brushery behind them, they had no way in seeing the accident about to occur.

………………………………

A small amount of time later in the Sheriff's office

A man with a loose sweated shirt and black pants came rushing into the station. He looked around frantically and ran up to the man he was looking for as soon as he spotted him. "Sir!" he huffed out. His breath was frantic because he had been running from the other side of the station for the last couple of minutes.

At the voice, the man looked at him. "What is it Corsby?" He asked exasperated. He had been in the middle of a conversation.

"There's been an accident at the park on 5th! An explosion!" Corsby said quickly.

The Sheriffs eyes widened and he began to sign others to get out there and take a look. When he saw the guy still there, he yelled, "Corsby. DO something-call in the coroner- He" He got cut off.

Corsby replied exasperatedly. "Sir-How do you think I know this? The coroner is already there. It's his daughters' birthday party." His wife and own daughter were already there. He was suppost to show up when he got off work himself.

The Sheriff's eyes widened and he finally got someone to make a call to the nearest side office for a different person to identify and gather the evidence for the scene. Gil was one of the best men he knew, and the definite best man he knew in that type of job. But he was too close to this and wouldn't be allowed on the case, even if he did manage to survive.

………………………………

Days later, the case was solved. A guy had run a red light and crashed into a tanker truck carrying gas. It had exploded and the driver of the truck and the trucker were both ashes, unfound.

There weren't as many fatalities as was expected, a small blessing. But besides the driver and the trucker, there were nine missing and six accounted dead. Four of the missing people were children; two of them were the Grissom children.

Gil Grissom was currently a coroner in Las Vegas. When he had his daughters, he was a hopeful man. But they were gone and he knew that they were dead.

No one could have expected that they were merely misplaced and split up. The aliases of 'Buffy' and 'Faith' were being worn like a comforter, and the way fate worked was being cursed by the mouths of babes.

………………………………

TBC. (eventually)

Okay, I realize that you're all probably cursing me for not continuing something, but my muse pisses me off too. I get all these ideas that I just HAVE to do but she cuts me off mid-section for everything else.

Reviews are greatly appreciated and wanted. Please no flaming, and if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure that this is an original idea. Or at least, I haven't heard of this being done. BA ALWAYS!


	2. Chapter 2

**Slayers: Grissom Sisters**

**Chapter 2**

………………………

**Las Vegas Courtroom**

"A rock? Excuse me counselor, but this is the first mention of any rock we've had."

Sighing, the man looked over and began again, pointing to the picture on the projector. "It was in CSI Sanders's report."

There was more dialogue explaining how one man, the only suspect who had remained at the scene, as he beat up the person in question. Try to help someone and look what he got, beat up.

A concerned mother wasn't seeing it that way.

"He was my boy. He had a good chance of getting into college, a 3.6 grade point average." She was hysterical.

………………………………….

"You're going to apologize to a mother of a boy who would have beaten you and someone else to death? It'll just show your culpability."

…………………………………

He tried to focus on her words, but wasn't having too much luck; he wanted to be able to sleep at night.

"How tough do you feel without your big SUV, huh?"

Shit. His mind began to panic, not look at the big picture and contemplate it like he always thought he would do. Slowly, he turned and stood up, facing the young dark skinned man who could definitely beat him up, despite the two inches Greg had on him.

"I asked you a question, killer." He said this and all Greg could think was, _I'm not a murderer, I'm not._

Luck was on his side. A man in a suit, no real face, walked in then and washed his hands and face quickly. By the time Greg looked up, he was gone, the dark skinned man had already walked away.

Greg wonders if it was a figment of his guilty imagination or just

…………………………………..

"We the jury find the death of Demetrius Johnson, is excusable."

_Guilt. Happiness. Guilt_. He's confused now, not really trusting in his decisions. The guy he saved is smiling in a wheelchair and yet he cannot bring himself to let the guilt go.

_Killer_.

…………………………………..

It was another miniature replica, this time over a blonde elderly lady who died before the cancer infecting her system painfully could kill her.

Over his shoulder, peering at the house-like form were Sara Sidle and David Hodges. No one really knew that Sara was like an adopted niece to him. Her parents hadn't treated her well and when he came across her years ago, he had her put into child protected services. Though the five years in the system had been hard, he had kept in contact with her and she had lived through it. He had been a mentor for her, and as he switched places, eventually coming back to Las Vegas, she followed.

David Hodges was a somewhat new lab technician. His thoughts were concentrated on the inner plots of crime scenes, taking Greg's place when he got into the physical side of the job. At first, he hadn't been well-liked, almost considered as Conrad's minion. But over time, he had finally adjusted and was now a normality around the lab. He was odd, to be sure, but everyone had their oddities, and his was becoming the usual around the lab. Greg's music wasn't played out of the cars now and sometimes Grissom wondered how he was taking it, having blood on his hands, however unintentional.

From the attack and so on, it seemed Greg was not getting cut a break. But then, with Conrad around, Gil wondered if they would all be forced to split up. He worried over it. He had never had a real team like he seemed to now.

………………………

It was Conrad's office, all dark navy blue covering the walls. There were no pictures, no personal effects except for those that might look good. Loose decorations and a few wonderful newspapers were on the walls, and the lights were dim enough not to be too bright.

Sitting there, Grissom wondered if the vague feeling of interrogation it held was on purpose, or if it was just Conrad's aura that he always held. Waiting for the other man to come back for this next round. The rest of his team had already parted in their own but he hadn't been able to talk to them, having been rushed to the room the boss wasn't even in fairly quickly after the last meeting.

A clock on the wall gave audible ticking sounds and though it might have deeply bothered others, he reveled in his ability to hear. The disease he acquired from his mother had been cured and cut from him fairly early. He was lucky and though he wasn't one for joy, he was glad that he could still hear.

His life was his job. He couldn't _not_ be a CSI.

Finally, the door behind him opened. He bent his head to listen but did not turn around. It was a sign of weakness. If he turned his head to look at him, it would make Conrad react as if he was cornered and show that Grissom was worried or cornered. Either way, Gil hadn't passed military training for nothing. Just because he didn't pursue a carreer in the field didn't mean he did not have avid interest.

He didn't say anything, but by the way Conrad moved around him, he knew the higher standing man had high military training gone awry. He filed the information away for later.

TBC.

I don't know when I will continue this exactly, but I am not abandoning it yet. Got it?


End file.
